#AngryBritishConservative

[tmarshconnors]

Disgraceful Threat to Recognise Palestinian State

The headlines today should make every decent, clear-headed Brit sick to their core. Israel has accused the UK of harming efforts to secure a Gaza ceasefire, and they are absolutely right to do so. Our so-called “leaders” in Westminster, under this mad left-wing government, have crossed a line they had no right to cross.

Prime Minister’s announcement? The UK will recognise a Palestinian state unless Israel meets certain conditions. Let me be absolutely clear we have NO RIGHT to threaten Israel like this. None. What this government is doing is nothing short of political blackmail against one of our closest democratic allies in the Middle East, at the very moment they are fighting for their very survival.

And let us not forget the undeniable truth: It was not Israel that started this war. It was not Israel that launched an unprovoked massacre of civilians. It was not Israel that kidnapped women, children, and the elderly, parading them through the streets like trophies.

On October 7, 2023, Hamas, along with other Palestinian terrorist groups launched a coordinated armed invasion from the Gaza Strip into southern Israel. This was the first large-scale invasion of Israeli territory since the 1948 Arab–Israeli War. And they didn’t just target soldiers. They targeted families celebrating Simchat Torah, a Jewish holiday. That day wasn’t a “resistance” it was a deliberate, calculated act of terrorism.

And now, somehow, in the twisted logic of our “woke” political class, the response to that atrocity is to reward these terrorists by talking about recognising a Palestinian state. We are bending over backwards for groups whose very charters openly call for the destruction of Israel and the death of Jews.

This is not diplomacy. This is a weakness. This is moral cowardice dressed up as foreign policy.

Let’s not mince words, recognising a Palestinian state now is not about peace. It’s about appeasing the far-left radicals, virtue-signalling to international bodies, and pretending to “solve” the problem while stabbing Israel in the back. The terrorists who run Gaza will see it for what it is: a victory. Proof that violence and slaughter get results.

Our government should hang its head in shame. The people of the UK deserve leadership that understands the difference between a democracy defending itself and a terrorist organisation that thrives on bloodshed. Israel is not perfect,

no country is but it is the only liberal democracy in the region, the only place in the Middle East where Jews, Christians, and Muslims can live under the same legal rights.

And yet, we threaten them.

While ignoring the barbarity of Hamas.

While whitewashing terrorism into “freedom fighting.”

History will not be kind to this moment. And neither will the British people when they wake up to the reality that we’re not standing on the side of justice, we’re siding with those who started this war in the first place.

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[tmarshconnors]

Overdosed on the Red Pill

Let’s cut through the niceties. I didn’t wake up last week because of a viral clip. I didn’t have some road-to-Damascus moment watching a podcast or reading some bloke on X (formerly Twitter) rant about masculinity, government control, or society going to hell. No. I’ve been awake since I was 14 maybe even earlier.

I didn’t take the red pill. I��overdosed on it.

And let me tell you something most people won’t: it’s not glamorous. It’s not Instagrammable. It doesn’t come with a support group or a standing ovation. What it does come with is a permanent unease a knowing that makes it damn near impossible to live in the fantasy that everyone else clings to.

Teenage Clarity in a World of Noise

Most kids my age were obsessed with fitting in. I was obsessed with figuring out why we were being told to fit in to begin with.

I questioned authority. I questioned the media. I questioned education, for God’s sake where they tried to beat the curiosity out of us and replace it with state-approved obedience.

By the time most lads were just starting to think critically, I had already read Orwell, watched the world dismantle itself post-9/11, and realized our governments weren’t interested in truth. They were interested in control of thought, of speech, of dissent.

And while they handed out blue pills in the form of entertainment, empty sex, useless degrees, and TikTok filters I spat them out. I wanted the truth, even if it was ugly.

The Cost of Seeing Clearly

Here’s what the movies never tell you: waking up isn’t heroic. It’s lonely. When you see how broken everything is, it’s hard to smile at the fake news, the empty slogans, the people pretending they aren’t slaves to the machine.

You lose friends. You lose naivety. You lose comfort.

But what you gain? That’s where it matters.

You gain conviction. You gain grit. You gain a spine made of iron in a world full of jellyfish.

You gain the freedom to say, “No. I don’t consent to your lies.” And trust me, that’s a powerful thing.

Red Pill Britain

Now here I am, 32, still overdosed on the truth. Watching my country drown in political correctness, self-censorship, weak leadership, and open borders. Watching men lose purpose, children lose innocence, and the West loses its soul.

And what do they offer us in return? Another Netflix reboot. Another lockdown. Another shot in the arm.

The Red Pill isn’t a fad. It’s a curse and a blessing.

I’ll wear it like a badge because someone needs to stand up and shout, even if everyone else is too distracted by a stupid "Reality Show" or whatever mass media stunt to notice the fire creeping up their walls.

So here’s to the red pill junkies, the awake, the defiant.

We might not be many. But we’re real. And we’ll be the last ones standing when the illusion finally burns to ash.

Stay angry, stay British, and stay awake. Thomas Marsh-Connors The Angry British Conservative

[tmarshconnors]

Common Sense Prevails at Last

Well, well, well… it only took until 2025 for the UK’s highest court to state the blindingly obvious: a woman is an adult human female defined by biological sex, not someone’s feelings, pronouns, or personal identity delusions. The UK Supreme Court has finally done what politicians, universities, and public institutions have been too spineless to do: put science, reason, and truth back at the heart of the law.

It’s common sense, isn’t it? Should have been settled years ago. But for over a decade now, we’ve lived in a world where stating the plain fact that “women are female” was treated like an act of heresy. People lost jobs, got silenced, and were branded as “transphobic” for merely repeating what every biology textbook has taught since primary school.

But now, thanks to this landmark ruling, the legal framework catches up with what the public has known all along: that sex is not a costume you put on. You can't just declare yourself a woman and gain access to female-only spaces, sports, prisons, or rights. Womanhood is not a mood. It’s not a club. It’s a biological reality. And no matter how much lipstick, surgery, or hashtags are involved, that fact doesn't change.

This ruling isn’t about hate. It’s about boundaries, fairness, and protecting hard-won women’s rights from being diluted into meaningless sludge by radical ideology. It's about ensuring women’s safety in prisons. It’s about ensuring fairness in sport. It’s about ensuring that language, science, and law are rooted in truth, not delusion.

Frankly, it should never have come to this. We should never have entertained the idea that truth is “offensive.” But here we are — and I’m grateful the courts have restored some sanity in a society that has gone utterly mad with virtue-signalling nonsense.

To all the women, the real women, who have stood firm in the face of mob attacks, silencing, cancellation, and online witch hunts: this is your vindication. You were right all along.

And to the institutions still parroting that “transwomen are women” like it's gospel truth? Time to pack it in. Biology is back in the courtroom. And it's not up for debate.

A woman is a woman because she is born a woman. End of.

God Save the King, Thomas Marsh-Connors 🇬🇧 Angry British Conservative

[tmarshconnors]

Thoughts from an Only Child at 3:30AM

Not every blog I write is about politics, tech, or society. Sometimes, it's just raw emotion. Just me sat here in the garden, 3:30am in the morning. Cool air brushing past me like a ghost of something long gone. I think. I reflect. And sometimes, I write.

Being an only child teaches you a few things. And not in the fairy tale way people imagine spoiled, pampered, coddled. No, it teaches you how to survive silently. It shows you what it means to be independent out of necessity, not out of choice.

When you grow up without siblings, you learn early on: you’ve got no backup. No brother to step in when someone’s giving you hell. No sister to confide in when your heart breaks at 17. You are your own team, your own lifeline. And that reality hardens you in places most people never even realise.

You notice things others overlook. Every smirk someone throws your way. Every twitch of discomfort. Every shoulder shrug, foot shuffle, eye roll  it's all data. You become fluent in body language, because when you’re alone, you have to read the room like your life depends on it. That’s how you know if someone’s real… or if they’re just wearing a mask.

You learn to make every moment count because you don't get the luxury of a “next time.” That friend you talk to might vanish tomorrow. That one phone call could be the last. So you pour yourself into it, into them. Because part of you knows it could all go silent again.

I’ve had many of those late, late nights. Trust me. Too many. Like right now. Just me, my thoughts, and a quiet world that doesn’t know or care that I’m still awake. No texts. No footsteps coming down the stairs. No laughter echoing from another bedroom. Just me.

Was there a time I wished I had siblings? Yeah, there was. Especially growing up. When I saw kids arguing and then hugging five minutes later, I envied that. When I saw brothers sticking up for each other, or sisters planning sleepovers together, I felt that ache. That little voice in my chest whispering, Why not me?

But now? No. I’m happy with the silence. It’s made me who I am. It’s not a life for everyone. But it’s mine. It’s lonely sometimes, sure. But it’s taught me resilience, empathy, observation, and above all self-reliance. You learn to handle yourself. Because, quite frankly, you have no other choice.

So this blog isn’t just a post. It’s a piece of my heart. A rare one. Not polished or political. Just honest. If you’re reading this and you’ve ever felt alone  really alone  know that I get it. And know that being alone doesn’t mean being lost. It means being tested. Sharpened. Seasoned.

And if you're out there tonight, wide awake like me, staring into the dark... you're not the only one.

Mr. TMarsh-Connors

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Best flag, best people, best country.

Worst Government.

[tmarshconnors]

LEAVE OFFICE NOW!

By Angry British Conservative – Mr. TMarsh-Connors

Prime Minister Keir Starmer has now declared that fixing the welfare system is a “moral imperative.” I nearly choked on my tea. Not because the welfare system doesn’t need urgent reform it does, it’s been bloated, inefficient, and riddled with dependency culture for decades but because the man saying it is the same one actively making the situation worse with every policy push, every smug statement, and every limp bit of so-called leadership.

Let’s call this what it really is: a moral imperative for Starmer to leave office before he causes further irreparable harm to Britain.

Welfare Reform? You’re Having a Laugh, Mate.

Starmer’s idea of “fixing” welfare will be another round of:

Increased bureaucracy, more red tape, and extra forms nobody understands.

Expanded state dependency, where working families continue to get shafted while those who game the system thrive.

Punishment of the aspirational, as benefits balloon for the idle while strivers get taxed into the ground.

You don’t fix a broken system by incentivizing idleness. But that’s exactly what this government is doing and they’re doing it with your money.

2029 Can’t Come Soon Enough

We have to endure another four years of Starmer’s hollow speeches, moralistic lecturing, and middle-management governance that treats the public like stupid employees in need of constant correction. If 2024 was a fluke, then 2029 has to be the reckoning. A proper Conservative resurgence one not apologizing for British values, discipline, hard work, for truth must come, or we’re going to look back on these years as the point where the dam truly burst.

Let’s Face Facts

Starmer is not the solution. He’s part of the elite problem, the smug set who think the country’s working class is a project, a statistic, a managed problem. Welfare, in their eyes, isn’t about helping people get off the system it’s about keeping them there, pacified and docile. That’s not compassion that’s control.

And as for the moral imperative? Let me tell you what’s really moral:

Rewarding work, not idleness.

Empowering families, not undermining them.

Reducing dependence, not expanding it.

We need a welfare system that helps people rise, not wallow.

But that’s not what Starmer wants. He wants a Britain that is managed, not led. Nannied, not inspired. Numb, not alive.

And frankly, the madness of it all is driving me up the wall. I could scream. I could go absolutely bloody mad but then again, that’s probably what they want: for the patriotic voices to feel like strangers in their own country.

Until 2029, keep your head high, your voice loud, and your flag waving. This is still our country.

Angry. British. Conservative. Mr. TMarsh-Connors

[tmarshconnors]

This Golden Dome Madness

Let’s clear the air right away if you’ve been following my work, my blog, or my podcast for more than five minutes, you’ll know I’m a hardline conservative through and through. No apologies, no fluff, no compromise. That’s the brand and it always will be. I believe in strong borders, national identity, personal responsibility, and good old-fashioned common sense.

Now and then, I like to dip my toes into American politics yes, even though I proudly wear the Union Jack on my sleeve. And because of that, some people love to assume I’m a full-blown Donald 

Trump fanatic. I support the man, sure. Given the choice between Trump and the far-left clown circus that is the modern Democratic Party, I’d vote red in a heartbeat. But let’s get one thing straight supporting someone doesn’t mean agreeing with everything they say or do.

Here’s where the nuance comes in something sorely lacking in today’s political discourse. American conservatism and British conservatism are not the same beast.

They share values, yes, but the flavours are different. British conservatives the real ones, not the soggy centrists in Westminster pretending to be we come from a tradition of ironclad monarchy, heritage, and keeping things grounded. American conservatism? That’s a louder, brasher, more performative cousin. Sometimes brilliant, sometimes bonkers.

Case in point? The “Golden Dome.”

Yes, you read that right. Trump has unveiled plans for a "Golden Dome" defence system apparently a bold, shiny, gilded answer to Israel’s Iron Dome. Because of course, America doesn’t just build something effective and practical it’s got to be big, it’s got to be flashy, and apparently, it’s got to sound like a Vegas casino.

Don’t get me wrong I’m all for national defence. Israel’s Iron Dome has saved thousands of lives, and we should always be looking at ways to defend free people from real threats. But the branding here? I mean seriously. A "Golden Dome"? What’s next the UK unveiling a "Diamond Dome"? 

Perhaps the EU will slap together a "Platinum Parasol" to protect themselves from harsh tweets and mean opinions.

It’s parody at this point or would be, if it weren’t actually happening.

Here’s the crux of the matter: Supporting Trump over the radical left doesn’t mean I check my brain at the door. I can support his stance on free speech, border control, and the economy while also rolling my eyes at some of the over-the-top American pageantry that comes with the package.

So no, I’m not a Trump fanatic. I’m a British conservative who appreciates strong leadership, but also values restraint, realism, and not turning defence strategy into a gold-plated PR stunt.

Let’s stay grounded, folks. Be proud, be prepared but let’s keep the nonsense in check.

Thomas Marsh-Connors The Angry British Conservative

[tmarshconnors]

Rushdie’s Attacker Deserved Life.

In a world that pretends to value freedom of speech, how do we respond when someone tries to stab it to death literally?

This week, Hadi Matar, the man who brutally attacked Sir Salman Rushdie on stage in New York in 2022, was sentenced to 25 years in prison. And frankly, it’s not just disappointing it’s a travesty. A mockery of justice. 

A slap in the face to every writer, every thinker, every freedom loving citizen who believes that you don’t get to kill someone because you didn’t like their book.

Let’s not forget the facts: Rushdie was stabbed repeatedly on stage, in broad daylight, at a public literary event. The man nearly died. He lost the sight in one eye. And all of this why? Because three decades ago, he wrote a novel that offended the sensibilities of some extremists. So, someone tried to carry out a fatwa as if it were still the Middle Ages.

And now, this attacker, this coward, gets 25 years?

We Should Be Outraged

This isn’t just about Salman Rushdie. This is about a principle. When someone attempts to assassinate an author for exercising free speech, the punishment should match the crime not be a glorified sabbatical in prison.

Where is the deterrent in this? Where is the clear, moral message that we in the West supposedly stand for that ideas are not crimes, and that physical violence in response to art is evil?

The courts called it attempted murder. But I call it attempted censorship by terrorism, and the sentence should reflect the gravity of that. Life in prison isn’t too harsh it's the bare minimum.

A Society of Cowards

Here’s the hard truth: we’re losing our moral backbone. Instead of boldly defending freedom of expression, we’ve become too cautious, too apologetic, too afraid of being labelled “insensitive.” And so, we allow cowardly acts like this to be underpunished, all in the name of “balance” or “fairness.” There is nothing fair about a man like Rushdie living the rest of his life half-blind while his attacker will one day walk free.

Rushdie’s very existence has always stood as a line in the sand: the moment we stop defending him, we lose that line. And that line is Western civilisation’s backbone.

What Should’ve Happened

What the judge should have said was simple: “You attacked a man for words. You tried to kill freedom itself. You will spend the rest of your natural life behind bars, because that’s what it costs when you try to bring darkness to the light of civilisation.”

Instead, we got 25 years. And with parole, good behaviour, and the inevitable human rights lawyers getting involved, it could be far less.

Final Thought

We either believe in free speech, or we don’t. There is no middle ground. And when someone tries to murder an author on a stage for doing his job, and we respond with a light slap on the wrist… what are we even defending anymore?

We need courage. We need clarity. And we need leaders and judges who remember what civilization actually means.

[tmarshconnors]

The Bedrock of Civilisation

By Thomas Marsh-Connors, The Angry British Conservative

In an age where outrage masquerades as virtue and mobs dictate narratives louder than courts, it is imperative — more than ever — that we reassert a fundamental principle of any truly civilized society: the Rule of Law.

The Rule of Law is not just some dusty old concept from the pages of a law textbook. It is the guardian of freedom, the protector of the weak, and the ultimate equaliser. Without it, democracy becomes theatre. Without it, rights become privileges handed out by the mob, or worse — by the whims of the powerful.

Let me be blunt. The Rule of Law means everyone, regardless of race, rank, wealth, belief, or politics, is subject to the same laws, enforced impartially. That includes the protester with a placard, the politician in Westminster, the journalist behind the keyboard, and even the monarch on the throne. That’s what makes it sacred.

But what we’re seeing in the 21st century is not merely a decline in respect for this principle it’s an active assault. From the toppling of statues without debate or due process, to "trial by social media" where reputations are destroyed before facts are even established, we are witnessing a slow but real erosion of a foundational principle that took generations to build.

We must not allow feelings to override facts. Justice is not about who shouts the loudest, trends the highest, or claims the greatest victimhood. Justice is blind for a reason — and she must stay blind, or we all pay the price.

It was the Rule of Law that protected the innocent during the English Civil War. It was the Rule of Law that gave rise to Magna Carta, a document that inspired the freedoms of the entire English-speaking world. And it is the Rule of Law that stops tyranny in its tracks, whether that tyranny wears a crown, a judge’s wig, or a Twitter handle.

Look around. There are places not far from us where the law is a tool of the state, or worse, a suggestion. Corruption flourishes, dissent is crushed, and power changes hands not through the ballot box, but the barrel of a gun or the storm of a mob. Britain must never become that. We are not perfect, but our commitment to the Rule of Law has been our strength for centuries.

So let us be clear-eyed. The Rule of Law is not just about courts and constitutions. It’s about teaching our children that actions have consequences. It’s about respecting due process, even when the outcome isn’t what you wanted. It’s about resisting the temptation to burn it all down in the name of temporary rage.

Freedom, true freedom, does not exist in lawlessness. It exists in a society where law reigns supreme, not individuals. Where the law is known, stable, and applied justly not rewritten on a whim to suit current fashions or digital mobs.

In this world of shifting sands, let us hold firm to the rock that is the Rule of Law. If we abandon it, we abandon the very idea of Britain. We must never forget and never stop defending it.

God Save the King. God Bless the United Kingdom. And long live the Rule of Law.

[tmarshconnors]

“Zelensky Accuses” – Is That All He Does?

By Thomas Marsh-Connors, Angry British Conservative

You can barely open a newspaper, scroll through social media, or glance at a headline these days without seeing the same tired refrain:

“Zelensky accuses.”

Again.

And again.

And again.

Whether it’s accusing Russia (which is predictable), accusing NATO (when it suits him), accusing the West of not doing enough (even after billions in aid), or accusing someone else of failing Ukraine—President Volodymyr Zelensky has mastered the art of moral outrage on demand. It's become a script, a broken record, an echo chamber of victimhood, constantly broadcast to wring out more sympathy, more money, and more weapons from the West.

Let me ask the question everyone else is too spineless to voice out loud: Does he do anything else?

I’m not saying Ukraine doesn’t have legitimate grievances of course it does. War is brutal. Russia invaded. That’s not in dispute. 

At some point, leadership means more than pointing fingers and playing the global martyr. It means building something, uniting your people, and actually governing. And while the world burns, while Europe crumbles under migrant chaos, energy crises, and unchecked inflation, Zelensky seems more focused on maintaining his media tour than he is on actual reform or resolution.

Yes, he’s the darling of Vogue covers, Netflix-style documentaries, and standing ovations in Western parliaments but what has he actually achieved, besides galvanising celebrities and guilt tripping democracies?

The uncomfortable truth is this: Zelensky has become a professional accuser, not a wartime leader.

While British veterans go homeless, our NHS crumbles, and families in Hull, Portsmouth, and Preston are choosing between heating and eating, we’re expected to empty our pockets at his every beck and call. Billions flow to Kyiv with little oversight. Accountability? Transparency? Ha! Don’t be ridiculous we’re told we’re monsters if we dare ask.

Let me be clear: I support helping genuine allies. I support peace. But I do not support being emotionally blackmailed by someone who seems to think his role on the world stage is to scold and demand, not lead and solve.

Zelensky: The world is tired. The West is broke. And your accusatory speeches are wearing thin. If you want to be taken seriously as a statesman and not just a media mascot, start acting like one.

Until then, perhaps the next time we see a headline, it could read:

"Zelensky builds." "Zelensky negotiates." "Zelensky unites."

Anything anything other than “Zelensky accuses.”

Enough is enough.

[tmarshconnors]

Eagle of Prophecy

Well, here’s a thought and it’s not one to dismiss lightly.

The new Pope yes, Pope Leo the Fourteenth has chosen a name that should raise more eyebrows than it has. "Leo." That name doesn't come without heavy symbolism. In the Bible, particularly in the Book of Daniel and the Book of Revelation, there are warnings. Warnings cloaked in visions and beasts. One of those beasts? A lion. Another? An eagle. Both are potent symbols, and neither is mentioned without a deeper, darker meaning attached.

Now let’s unpack this, piece by piece.

Leo – A Name of Power and Pride

The name Leo Latin for lion carries strong connotations of kingship, dominance, and pride. That’s all very regal, very grand, very Roman Catholic. But in Daniel 7, the lion with eagle’s wings is one of the four great beasts. This isn’t a fluffy lion from a fairytale. It’s a symbol of kingdoms rising and falling, empires born and crushed under divine judgment. Prophetic scholars, for centuries, have linked the lion to ancient Babylon but some have speculated modern parallels.

Now, here's where it gets unsettling.

The Eagle – America's National Symbol

Which modern nation is represented by the eagle? Go on, take a guess. That’s right the United States of America. The bald eagle sits proudly on the Great Seal, flapping across war zones and diplomatic halls alike. It’s a symbol of power, might, and influence. And who is the new pope? A man hailing from the United States of America. This isn’t business as usual. This is historic.

It is the first American pope in the history of the Catholic Church. And he has chosen the name Leo. Lion. Combine that with his homeland the eagle and suddenly the vision in Daniel doesn’t seem so far away, does it?

Daniel 7:4:

“The first was like a lion, and had eagle’s wings: I beheld till the wings thereof were plucked…”

That verse should give you chills. Because the symbolism isn’t abstract anymore. It’s walking, breathing, and addressing the Catholic faithful from St. Peter’s Basilica. The lion. The eagle. United in one figure. A prophetic cocktail that ought to concern any watchful soul.

Am I Grabbing at Loose Ends? Maybe. But What If I’m Not?

Look, maybe I’m stretching. Maybe this is all coincidental. But is it really? You know how the world works today symbolism is the language of the elite, of the old powers. They speak in images, signs, and names. They move like chess masters across a global board while the rest of us are left to connect the dots.

But this time, the dots are practically glowing.

A Pope from America. A name that harks back to imperial power. A world in geopolitical chaos. And a prophetic warning that sounds eerily similar to current events.

I’m not claiming to have all the answers, but I’m raising the questions no one dares to ask.

You want to call it a conspiracy theory? Fine. But remember, every so-called "conspiracy theory" is just a premature truth.

Stay watchful. Stay informed. And don’t ignore the signs especially when they’re flapping their wings in plain sight.

Until next time, Angry British Conservative

[tmarshconnors]

Must Protect What They Sacrificed

Today marks the 80th anniversary of Victory in Europe Day.

Eighty years since the guns fell silent across the blood-soaked fields of Europe… since the skies over London no longer roared with Luftwaffe menace… since families, torn apart by telegrams and trenches, dared to believe in peace again.

But this day, this solemn day, is not just another tick on the calendar.

It’s a heartbeat of memory. A pulse of pride. And a warning that must echo down the ages.

Our grandparents and for some of us, our great-grandparents — marched into hell with hearts full of duty. They didn’t ask for likes or recognition. They weren’t fuelled by hashtags or self-pity. They were the salt of the Earth, the last generation who truly understood sacrifice.

They stood for something. For country. For freedom. For Britain.

And too many of them never came home.

Imagine being 19 years old not in a university lecture hall, but on a beach in Normandy, soaked in blood and saltwater. Imagine watching your best mate breathe his last for the flag you both loved. And yet, you carry on because the fate of the free world depends on it.

That was the Britain they fought for. Not a Britain of division and defeatism. Not a Britain of cowardice, censorship, and self-loathing. But a Britain that stood tall. Unapologetically. Proudly.

And now I ask are we living lives worthy of that sacrifice?

Do we honour their courage when we tear down our own history? Do we protect their memory when we mock patriotism? Do we respect their legacy when we hand away our sovereignty bit by bit for cheap comfort and globalist approval?

We must be better. We must remember.

Because memory is fragile. It dies in silence.

That’s why we must teach our children not watered-down versions of the truth, not sanitised or rewritten to suit some twisted agenda, but the truth. We must walk with pride under the Union Jack, not shame. We must cherish our history even the painful chapters because it is ours, written in the blood of heroes.

We owe them not just thanks, but vigilance.

Because freedom, once taken for granted, is easily lost. And tyranny, once beaten, always waits for another chance.

So on this day 8th May 2025 I will tell you: fly the flag. Speak their names. Tell their stories. Kneel at their graves not in guilt, but in gratitude.

NEVER FORGET. NEVER AGAIN. NEVER SURRENDER.

Lest we forget what they gave up so we could sit here today — free, stubborn, British.

God save the King. And may He bless the memory of the brave.

Thomas Marsh-Connors Author. Podcaster. Son of Albion. Angry British Conservative.

[tmarshconnors]

Oak Tree Still Whispers

By Thomas Marsh-Connors | Angry British Conservative

There’s a particular stillness I remember not silence, not emptiness but stillness. It was under a great oak tree back in my college days. A sprawling English giant, the kind that looks like it’s been standing since the Wars of the Roses. That day, it held 20 or so of us beneath its arms, gathered in a quiet circle. No phones. No politics. No noise. Just us, the earth, and the sound of Zen music drifting from a small speaker. Something ancient stirred in that moment.

I wasn’t raised in Zen Buddhism, and I don’t claim to follow the faith. I’m a Christian, a monarchist, and a proud conservative. But I’ve always believed that truth can come from many corners of the world, and Zen despite its Eastern roots spoke to something primal in me. It wasn’t about doctrine. It was about attention. Clarity. Simplicity. It was about being.

That moment beneath the oak was my first real taste of Zen. Something in that hour of shared silence cracked through the noise of youth, lectures, cheap lager, and the chaos of student life. I remember focusing on my breath, then the breeze, then nothing. I wasn’t escaping I was arriving. For once, I wasn’t trying to prove a point, win a debate, or control the narrative. I was just there. Fully. Completely.

Since then, Zen has been a quiet undercurrent in my life. I don’t chant mantras or sit in lotus every morning. But I do walk slowly when I need to think. I do appreciate the silence between guitar notes in a Dylan song. I do pause before speaking in heated moments not always, but more often than I used to. I keep my space tidy not just for order, but for peace. Even in how I travel, and how I write especially in my novels there’s always that thread of mindful observation. Seeing. Feeling. Noticing.

Zen teaches the value of the present moment, of wabi-sabi beauty in imperfection. And let’s be honest, that’s something the modern world could do with a bit more of. We’re all so obsessed with being seen, being loud, being right. But Zen reminds me to be still. To observe. To understand that not everything needs fixing. Some things just are.

I’m not a monk. I like tech, leather, and a good political argument. But I’ll still sit in silence when the world feels too heavy. I’ll still return to that oak tree in my mind, where I first learned that peace isn’t found by escaping the world but by being completely present in it.

Call it Zen. Call it maturity. Call it British stubbornness seasoned with a bit of Eastern calm. Either way, it stuck with me.

And in this loud, fast, always-on culture we could all do with sitting under a tree now and then.

[tmarshconnors]

Word Press Freedom Day 2025

By Thomas Marsh-Connors, “The Angry British Conservative”

Today, May 3rd, marks World Press Freedom Day 2025 a day that, while celebrated globally, should give us more pause than pride. Because if we’re honest, press freedom in 2025 is under siege not just in dictatorships abroad but in so-called "liberal democracies" like our own.

The press was once the sword of the people, now it's often the shield of the powerful.

We live in an age where journalists are no longer persecuted solely by foreign tyrants with moustaches and medals. Today, censorship comes in the form of "content moderation", "fact-checking partnerships", and algorithmic shadow bans. The soft tyranny of Silicon Valley and Westminster's backroom bureaucracy is every bit as chilling as the iron fist of a traditional regime. And let’s not kid ourselves: the mainstream press has too often become a mouthpiece for political orthodoxy, not a watchdog for liberty.

Freedom of the press should never mean freedom to manipulate, mislead, or marginalize dissenting voices. Yet this is exactly what's happening. From legacy media silencing independent commentators to tech giants de-platforming voices they disagree with, the public square has become dangerously curated. And while the left cheers it on in the name of “safety” and “misinformation,” real journalists who challenge the narrative are being pushed to the fringes.

Let’s be very clear:

A free press doesn't mean a comfortable press. It means people are going to be offended. It means sacred cows will be questioned. And it means power—be it political, corporate, or cultural gets held to account.

In Britain, we’ve watched the BBC transform from a national treasure into a politically correct PR agency. We’ve seen tabloids sued into silence and independent bloggers hunted like criminals under vague laws about “harmful content.” The 21st-century press faces death by a thousand cuts, not from guns or prisons, but from lawsuits, regulations, demonetization, and cancel culture.

So, what’s the answer?

It’s time to support the truth-tellers, not the narrative-pushers. Subscribe to independent outlets. Back journalists who speak against the grain. Demand real neutrality from platforms and politicians alike. And never forget that freedom of the press is worthless if it only applies to the popular opinion of the day.

On this World Press Freedom Day, don’t just tweet a platitude to defend the principle. Because once the press falls, democracy follows.

God bless the truth-seekers.

— Thomas Marsh-Connors Author | Podcaster | Christian Conservative | Free Speech Advocate

[abcphotoblog]

The Angry British Conservative Headquarters

Standing tall against the city skyline, the Angry British Conservative HQ is more than just a building it’s a symbol of pride, tradition, and unapologetic values.

Designed to reflect strength, clarity, and ambition, the skyscraper’s sharp angles and glass facade send a message to the world: we are here, we are bold, and we are not backing down.

Nestled among the heart of the financial district, this towering landmark represents the voice of true British conservatism proud of heritage, committed to free speech, and unafraid to challenge modern chaos with a firm, steady hand. Every detail, from the crisp stone base to the reflective heights, speaks of discipline, honour, and the determination to lead.

This is not just an office it’s a headquarters for a movement. A headquarters for people who refuse to be silenced.